


Metal Pets

by LittleSpacePrince



Series: Tale Teller's Daily Writing Challenge [18]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Pets, dummy is tonys pet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 05:51:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13781082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSpacePrince/pseuds/LittleSpacePrince
Summary: Prompt:Your character decides they need a pet. How does that go?In which Tony prefers the company of his bots to pets.





	Metal Pets

Bruce had tried everything. A lot of whining, a lot of prodding, but it was set in stone. Tony Stark was absolutely set against any sort of pet. 

Cats, dogs, guinea pigs, goddamn alpacas. Tony always refused, coming up with more and more ridiculous excuses as Bruce’s requests grew more and more ridiculous. He had started with something simple. All he’d wanted was a dog; he'd always kept a dog when he was on the run, in part for the protection and alarm should someone come looking for him in the middle of the night, in part for the companionship. Mangy mutts he found in the streets, usually, but they made for loyal companions. 

Tony had said no for the sake of shedding at first. Then Bruce brought up short-haired dogs, dogs that wouldn’t shed, and he changed the excuse, saying that the compound didn't particularly offer the kinds of wide open spaces that dogs preferred to roam. Bruce brought up small dogs, or breeds that tended to be more laid back, and Bruce insisted that he could take it for walks without issue. Tony then changed his story again, reminding him that dogs liked to chew things up, so Bruce suggested getting a rescue, an older pup who'd outgrown the puppy phase. And then Tony brought up the matter of housebreaking, and that none of the Avengers would be too pleased to be on the constant lookout for landmines. And that was the one that Bruce couldn't quite argue. 

So he changed the animal. A cat would certainly do him just as well. And yet, the excuses, the arguments continued, until finally Bruce relented. He supposed that Tony Stark truly was the heartless monster that everyone deemed him as. _Who the hell didn’t like animals?_

Still, Bruce stuck around. As much as he loved animals, he tended to love Tony just a bit more. Or maybe he just decided that the dick was worth sticking around for. Or the lab, maybe that's why he stayed. Either way, Bruce found himself sitting atop the workbench with legs crossed in Tony’s workshop, watching as he assembled his latest suit. He _did_ look good, skin sheen with sweat and in nothing but a tank top. Damn, maybe it _was_ the dick. 

“Dum-E, screwdriver.” Tony instructed, speaking for the first time in over an hour. Dum-E moved to retrieve what was asked of him, but instead returned with a wrench, offering it to his master. Bruce watched in amusement as Tony turned back toward the bot to find something nowhere near what he had asked for, sighing heavily in his annoyance. _“Screwdriver,_ Dum-E.” He groaned before walking over and retrieving one for himself, waving it in front of the bot, as if to scold him, as if to teach him that _this is what a screwdriver looks like._ Of course, he didn't have eyes, or a brain. Still, Tony treated the bot as if it was something real. 

“Why don't you just fix it?” 

Bruce knew better than to call Dum-E an ‘it.’ He knew damn well not to, and yet, he did, figuring that he was perhaps onto something. Science, he called it, or maybe just gaining enjoyment from Tony’s annoyance. And Tony’s annoyance he got, though annoyance was a bit of an understatement. Tony shot him the nastiest look, as if personally offended that he would dare call his precious Dum-E an ‘it’, or dare to suggest that he was in some need of fixing. 

A small smile spread over Bruce's features as Tony stared back at him, rage turning to confusion, unsure of why the doctor was smiling like that. It was a question that went without asking, because Bruce said it before Tony even had the chance to ask. 

“Dum-E’s your pet.” 

“He is not.” Tony replied, eyes rolling hard before returning to his work, opting to ignore the grinning doctor behind him, as if he had pulled some sort of Sherlock Holmes with such ridiculous suggestions. Dum-E. A pet. _Please._ He was a robot, not a pet. 

“Yes, he is. You talk to him, you treat him like he's sentient, but you don't treat him like an equal. You don't talk to him like you talked to JARVIS, and Dum-E can't talk back. Yet, you refuse to even think about getting rid of him. You named him, you keep him for sentimental value even though he doesn't work like he's supposed to. Dum-E is your pet.” Bruce insisted with a smug grin. “That's why you don't want a pet. It's because you've already got one.” 

“Shut up, he's not my pet.” Tony grumbled, knowing full well that he was right, but not wanting to admit it. In attempt to avoid the conversation, Tony raised a gloved hand toward a target, and fired. 

Too strong. 

Tony was hurled back across the room, drawing a small snicker from Bruce, and, in true Dum-E fashion, a spray from the fire extinguisher. Tony sat up, somewhere between pissed and exasperated, drawing a loud laugh from Bruce, unable to contain himself as he reached up and gave Dum-E a pat on the head. 

“Good boy.”


End file.
